Page 5 of Legally Ours

Messina's hands at my wrists tightened as he steered me toward the door, keeping the barrel of the gun to my head.

"No, I don't think we're done yet," he said, his nervous breath hot on my neck. I swallowed heavily. "Tell your men to get out of the way. Into that room."

Brandon stepped out of my prison, but nodded at his men, who filed inside with dark looks at Messina.

"Shut the door," Messina ordered.

Reluctantly, Brandon followed his orders.

"Please," I whispered.

"Shut it, Red," Messina barked with a wicked twist of my wrists. "Unless you want me to pull the trigger."

Brandon's eyes bulged at the threat, but he stayed where he was.

"Your money is at the drop point," he said. "Pass her to me, and I'll let you go."

"Oh, I think you'll let me go, all right," Messina said as he rotated us all in that same strange dance to the exit. He stopped with his back to the open stairwell. "And if it's not there, you better believe I'll be back. And this time I won't be so nice."

He stroked my cheek, and the muscle in Brandon's neck ticked even more violently.

"Get. The fuck. Off me!" I shouted, and with a whoosh of energy I didn't know I had in me, I whirled around and punched Messina straight in the face. The gun went off toward the ceiling, and a shower of plaster fell down on all of us as Brandon yanked me away from Messina and into his arms.

"You fuckin' bitch!" Messina yowled, as he re-cocked the gun and pointed it directly at us.

Brandon shook his head and shoved me behind him.

"Don't," he said. "Otherwise you won't get your money. The only thing stopping my team from shooting their way out of that room is my voice. You shoot, you're dead."

Messina's hand shook as he backed toward the door and weighed his decision. He squinted at us, then turned suddenly, pointed the gun downward, and fired two shots into the temples of his cohorts before turning the gun back on us.

"Witnesses," Messina bit out. ""You follow, you're dead. And if you talk or the money ain't there––you're next. The both of yous."

And then he was gone, the sound of his heavy footsteps beating on concrete until he was out of the building.

"Fuck," Brandon breathed as he pulled me close. "Stay here."

He eased me down into another chair, then went to let the security team out of the room before returning. Craig immediately took a look at the men lying on the floor, then gave instructions to the other two to alert the police. But when he turned to help pick me up, Brandon waved him away.

"I got her," he said. "Let's get out of here."

"You came back," I whimpered into his neck, tears starting to flow. "You came for me."

Brandon said nothing, just drew me into his chest. His fingers pressed hard into my shoulder enough to turn his bruised knuckles white. Finally, he started to stand up.

"No," I moaned, trying in vain to keep him with me, but my efforts to hold on only resulted in him sweeping me into his arms, my legs dangling over one elbow.

"Skylar, we have to go to the hospital," he said as he started walking us toward the door.

He carried me up the stairs and into the blinding sunlight and settled me into the back of an SUV that sat in the wide gravel lot with its tires shot through.

"The ambulance will be here in a second," Brandon said as he stroked my hair.

When I finally found the courage to look at him, I found him close to tears himself.

"Your face, baby," he said in a voice that cracked.

He traced his thumb gently over my wounded eye and cheek, but drew it away when I winced. The sound of his voice breaking and the watery texture of his bright blue eyes brought more tears to mine.

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